


Forget

by apogrcpha



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Amnesia, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Kid Sherlock, Light Angst, M/M, Memory Loss, One Shot, Teen Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 13:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10810278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apogrcpha/pseuds/apogrcpha
Summary: Sherlock is in a car crash which gave him anterograde amnesia, the inability to make new memories or having difficulty remembering new things.Whilst this makes almost in his life become a growing issue there's someone he can always rely on.





	Forget

**Author's Note:**

> So the bold numbers are the point out the age he is at that moment  
> The '-8-' are time skips but that means he's still that age
> 
> Also, I got this idea from another fanfic I read which had the same-ish idea called 'This feeling I'll forget'  
> Lastly I have never had amnesia nor know anyone who has it so this is mostly my imagination and how I imagine it would be, I didn't intent to offend anyone if I have done that.

**12.**  
Sherlock still clearly remembered when it happened; he went to a birthday part of one of the people he knew. He knew he liked the boy but he couldn’t quite remember his name, not that it was relevant now. The parents of the boy were kind and decided to bring him home as both of his parents and his brother were busy. There was a drunk driver on the road, one on his phone and one who wasn’t watching the road. It was a true miracle no one died, most came away with harsh injuries but they were physical and everyone could recover but Sherlock.

  
The moment his parents stepped into his room the Doctor had told them he might suffer from anterograde amnesia, short term memory loss was a simpler form but not completely true. They warned that he might have a hard time the next weeks with remembering recent things, he might not even remember things but they also said chances of recovery were high as they weren’t sure how much damage there truly was done so they had to expect short memory loss but that wouldn’t necessarily remain with him all his life.

  
Sherlock woke up two weeks after being brought into the hospital. The first reaction was panic, he had never panicked before. He was always calm and collected, sometimes he was disappointed, angry or even sad but he had never really panicked. His breaths were short and quick, his vision felt blurry and he felt like he was about to pass out. A nurse came rushing in.

  
What happened next he was unsure of, he had a vague memory and the things his parents told him. A doctor came within a few seconds and his parents were immediately called. The Doctor tried to communicate with him but he was unable to, the nurse did get through to him though. She told him to make a list if he could, different things he could remember and try to say them in order, focus on saying them. And so he went.

  
_Honey bee, bumblebee, apidae, carpenter bee, sweat bee, andrena, colletidae and dasypoda._

  
The nurse and doctor were amused by his choice but encouraged him, repeating it with him. It took long enough but eventually he calmed down, his breath was normal again, his heart going at a normal pace and his vision as sharp as ever. He still felt afraid, he recognized the stinging feeling in his stomach as one he was all too familiar with.

  
“Can you tell me your name?’’ The nurse had asked him, he drew a blank and realized why he was panicking in the first place. He didn’t remember anything, how he looked, how old he was, what he liked and didn’t like. He remembered a few odd pieces of information about odd subjects but couldn’t find himself saying his name.

  
“That can happen. Do you want something to drink, water maybe?’’ She asked him just as kindly as she did before, he stifled a nod. He felt pathetic, he knew he wasn’t extremely young as his body felt lanky yet he didn’t even remember his name.

  
The nurse came back with a glass of water and a few crackers, something to keep him from fainting the doctor explained. He took them and even though they were dry he enjoyed the taste of something in his mouth.

  
-8-

  
“Worse than we thought.’’ Once his parents arrived he had remembered his name with help from the doctor, still he did not know much. He was a boy of 12 called Sherlock Holmes, he got some facts back from himself, he had a brother called Mycroft, he knew what he liked and what he didn’t again.

  
Worse than we thought. Sherlock knew what it meant, he heard a few words drop about ‘memory’ ‘amnesia and ‘temporarily’ but those four words echoed through his mind. He wondered what they expected, did they expect he would wake up fine in a hospital with a vague memory of what happened, did they expect he would at least remember his name? He wondered what they were saying to his parents but he didn’t dare ask, it was rude.

  
A few minutes later his parents walked back inside to comfort him. No one brought up his issue though, the fact that he wasn’t able to remember his name. He knew they didn’t pass it off as nothing, he knew because otherwise he would’ve never called his parents. He knew it wasn’t just because he was panicking, the doctor knew something was wrong but he also knew no one was going to tell him and it frustrated him endlessly.

  
-8-

  
Two weeks later he was discharged, the doctor merely said he might have some trouble remembering but he knew it was worse otherwise he wouldn’t look as concerned as he did. Yet ten minutes later when they were driving in the car he was afraid to ask the question that had popped in his mind.

  
With a trembling voice he asked: “W-Where are we going?’’ His father looked over his shoulder and was surprised but said nothing for a few seconds, staring back at his mother and then he responded to Sherlock.

  
“Home.’’

  
Home. He decided not to ask more but was asking himself where was home, what was his home? Did it take long or short to drive there? Home. He knew it was a building but he couldn’t quite remember what it looked like, if it was a big mansion or a small apartment, home.

  
He knew his memory problems were severe when this happened, he couldn’t remember the simplest things sometimes and it frustrated him beyond belief yet no matter how hard he thought about things he couldn’t remember, sometimes he did a few minutes later but often it took a very long time to remember again. He felt a panic strike him, what if he suddenly forgot his name when someone asked? What if he forgot where home was when he needed to go there along?

  
_Honey bee, bumblebee, apidae, carpenter bee, sweat bee, andrena, colletidae and dasypoda._

  
He didn’t say it out loud, he didn’t want them to know he was panicking or at least felt like he was about to, he didn’t want them to know the fear residing inside him. He never wanted them to know, he didn’t want to look weak even if these were his parents. He wanted to feel like he was controlling what was going and so he repeated it over and over again in his head.

 

**15.**

  
Sherlock was sitting outside with a book in his lap. It took them three weeks after the crash to find out that things weren’t likely to get neither better nor necessarily worse, the doctors tried to find out how it happened or what really was going on but they decided to stick with their initial amnesia type as they noticed Sherlock had the most trouble with remembering new things, they also found out it was likely when he was panicking or experiencing extreme emotions he had a hard time recalling most things.

  
He hadn’t been hindered a lot in the past year despite that this made everything harder. He mostly had issues with petty things, remembering names, dates, titles of things, little details and a lot more but it hadn’t affected him too much, everything he could avoid by making a few lists or writing down notes.

  
The worst part was the pity, the hushed whispers and the little comments made. He learnt to deal with them, it wasn’t hard to act like he usually did but it was definitely annoying. He couldn’t always deal with it and pass it off though, the moments when he was nervous and forgot a name he had known for years, the sniggers and just everything sometimes was just too much.

  
Things were getting worse though, despite that obvious things were arranged with his teachers he both didn’t like being treated differently but now it was worse when in subjects he didn’t take interest in completely new topics were being covered, topics he had never read about before or even thought about. He was more nervous from time to time now, he tried to keep it under control as best as he could but sometimes he just couldn’t, luckily the most stressful moments were when he was alone, when there was no one to watch him and he was left to himself to feel pathetic. He knew he couldn’t handle it, it wasn’t his fault and he knew that, he couldn’t really have avoided the crash or anything alike yet it didn’t help him feel any less bad.

  
He stared down at his book, he didn’t even remember what the book was about as he both forgot it and didn’t really pay attention to it. He closed it and was left to think for a while; he had nothing else to do. He had given up studying on Geography, the chapter was extremely unimportant and he couldn’t remember it, he started and five minutes later when he stopped he had completely forgotten it already and he was only growing more frustrated the more he tried.

  
“Sherlock.’’ Sherlock had glanced up and saw Mycroft looming over him, he immediately noticed Mycroft didn’t look happy, he never really did, but didn’t look sad either, somewhere in between like he was thinking, as usual. He suddenly remembered a memory, something that happened at school once. Someone had pissed him off a lot, worse than a lot, and he made a few deductions which eventually left the boy crying. Just a little later he got called into the principal’s office and had to apologize yet he had no clue of what happened, the principal was outraged to say the least.

  
“Mycroft, shouldn’t you be doing something sophisticated?’’ Sherlock commented with an uninterested tone, Mycroft chuckled and decided to sit down next to him. Mycroft took the book from him and read the title before opening it, curiously staring at the words that were written inside. “Don’t worry too much.’’ Mycroft commented.

  
Mycroft had always tried his best to support his brother but had to admit sometimes he was unsure what to do, he wasn’t the most empathetic one and the one trait Sherlock had learnt the best was to hide what he was feeling thanks to Mycroft. Still, he tried to help him with whatever he could but then again Sherlock proved to just get more stubborn and stubborn, refusing help even though he knew he needed it and definitely shouldn’t feel bad for having to ask.

  
The feeling he got when he first heard about the crash had been one that stuck with him and you could say even plagued him. It felt like his heart almost stopped, it was like that in all honesty. His breath stopped for a second and he put the phone down, he was staring at the wall and felt his thoughts come to a sudden halt. He got up and turned the call off before racing to the hospital, he needed to get there as quickly as possible.

  
He had never been as shocked or responded as quickly. He arrived there just a while after his parents and whilst they were weeping he felt a complete nothingness, numbness he couldn’t get rid of. It was weird not feeling something, not even being able to think about something without falling back on the numbness he was experiencing. He had tried everything to distract him, to distract the anxiety he felt for Sherlock’s life even though the chances of him waking up were around 100%, he still felt anxious once the numbness had passed.

  
“Can you help me with Geography?’’ Sherlock’s voice was quiet like he was ashamed, Mycroft just smiled in response.

  
“Of course.’’

 

**21.**  
“Is that really necessary?’’ Sherlock asked. His apartment was an absolute wreck with he caused himself, he made it a wreck because he was rather desperate to finish the case that he had been given. Because of circumstances he met DI Greg Lestrade at Scotland Yard and the two made something like a promise, if he could solve this in a few days he’d be allowed to continue to help him with cases where he was desperate but otherwise they would have to find a solution to their little incident.

  
“Of course it is. I want to know what you’re doing, technically I’m breaking every law about confidentiality so I need to know you’re not doing stupid things or useless things or even releasing things to the media.’’ Greg said and chuckled at the sight. It was nothing less than he had expected of Sherlock although he imagined it would be slightly neater for a university student who was constantly prancing around in suits.

  
“Fine. Here, I think this is supposed to be it.’’ Sherlock pointed to a few things he had pinned into the wall and Greg started to look at it and observe it whilst Sherlock went over to the notepad resting in his chair as he needed to check everything and try his best to remember. This man is Greg Lestrade, he’s from Scotland yard and you’re helping him on a case. See the wall, that should be enough to make you recall.  
He took a moment for himself and tried his best to repeat this as much as he could and then went to join Greg in his observations of what he had noted so far. Ever since start university he had less moments of panic or panic attacks, he could do what he wanted as long as he passed the year so whenever he felt like a panic attack was coming he tried to calm himself down but if he couldn’t he just went to his apartment because now he couldn’t and people wouldn’t get mad at him anymore.

  
“This is quite a lot. How’d you get it just from photos.’’ Greg asked curiously and Sherlock shrugged, despite his memory problem he still felt like most people were absolute idiots. He might not be able to remember things very long or sometimes not even at all but he had found a solution to that and still people just acted so stupid, he wasn’t sure if they did it on purpose or accidentally.

  
“You need to observe. It’s obvious if you look at her ring, the dampness you reported on his clothes. It’s all obvious if you’re able to look. Also, the way you described him from the interview he seemed to be a little bit too eager and almost happy to be involved into a murder mystery which isn’t their usual reaction.’’ Sherlock commented and Greg shrugged but had to admit he was right, it did seem logical.

  
“Well, most I can say is thanks. So when do you think you’ll be able to finish this all or are there any things you need specifically to be able to finish this?’’ Greg asked and Sherlock nodded, he’d like to interrogate the suspect and the man who gave basically all of the tips, he’d also like to see the scene as the murder hadn’t been done that long ago so there would still be some evidence left.

  
“Maybe see the scene if you’ve still got it locked up and I’d like a conversation with both men involved into the case…’’ Sherlock drew a blank on his name, he was so busy thinking about the case he had started to forgot all about him, the little details always got him. He sighed and grew frustrated while the silence became more awkward.

 

_Honey bee, bumblebee, apidae, carpenter bee, sweat bee, andrena, colletidae and dasypoda._

 

“Gavin.’’ Sherlock said unsure. Greg looked at him as though he was joking but decided not to mention it, it didn’t seem important and then again the two met only two days ago and he also sometimes forgot people their names so he didn’t really decided to think about it too much. With a quick bye and a warning Greg left the apartment.

  
Sherlock groaned annoyed once he read his name, he was close but the fact he read the name just a few seconds before made him feel stupid. He knew he was extremely busy with the case and all his thoughts were focused onto that but still, it wasn’t a valid excuse, to him, to forget a name he had read just a few seconds ago.

  
With a frustrated groan he decided to just get back to work.

 

**25.**

  
Sherlock finally cracked the code to his memories, he still didn’t know how bad it really was as he was unsure how to measure but found out a few things. If he was distracted by anything he liked more there was a very high chance he would forget less important, to him, things or small details like people their names, their age or things alike. This also happened when he was experiencing very strong emotions, when he was in pure rage or having a panic attack. He called those bad days, recently there had been less but that could’ve also been because he had been intoxicated most of the time.

  
Despite all the memory issues he somehow always was able to remind himself to make sure to avoid Mycroft in whatever way he could which mostly meant going to places far away from security cameras and his apartment, Mycroft had been getting more and more control over secret services and stuff alike but he still didn’t have all the control so Sherlock took pleasure in how easy it still was to get away from his watchful eye, he knew he meant well but that didn’t mean he liked it.

  
He started to record more things as he did feel his memory wasn’t getting much better and he still wanted to look as optimal as he always did, he didn’t want to look any less to Greg although he was convinced Greg had started to form his suspicions about his memory issues after getting his name wrong so many times although he could also take it as a continuous running joke which he really hoped he did.

  
Greg had given him more and more cases and seemed to start to care less about the whole confidentiality laws and more about solving the case with was, in Sherlock’s opinion, a good thing to do. This time it was quite simple but he kept from telling Greg just to make sure all his deductions were right, the worse his memory got the less he trusted himself and he knew a lot of this was done when he was high all after the other so he just wanted to make sure everything was correct and that he hadn’t noted bullshit down.

  
Against Sherlock’s better instinct he decided to go out, he was unsure what he wanted to do but he just wanted to get outside and do something, it didn’t even really matter what it was anymore. Because of this his first thought went to coffee and his idea was to go and get a coffee which messed up a bit as his eyes landed on a pub and he decided to just walk in there, he didn’t know why but it could be that he was getting frustrated and just wanted to do the first thing he saw.

  
He had decided to quit for a while, he thought it would be better to review this whole case completely sober but he had to admit he missed it, it just did something to him that changed him completely yet also left him exactly like he was that made it extremely nice to just get high, he kept al his wits to him and he could even argue he got brighter whenever he was high, he was more open and spotted different things than he usually would’ve.

  
He sat down and groaned in annoyance, he had been forgetting a lot ever since the last time and it was starting to get annoying, he was starting to get convinced his memory was becoming even worse than it already was and it was already about to collapse onto the ground, there wasn’t much that could make it worse yet somehow it was.

  
“Haven’t seen you here before.’’ Sherlock glanced up at the man who was speaking to him, he had blonde hair and blue eyes. He seemed around the same age as Sherlock, Sherlock immediately noticed the surprising amount of muscle yet the way he carried himself didn’t seem to imply he was the man to do that to brag so he either really kept in shape or it was for something he had planned. He seemed like a kind person, humble without a doubt when it came to the state of his clothing. “Suppose.’’

 

“Just trying to be nice okay,’’ He chuckled a little. “I’m John.’’

  
“Sherlock.’’

  
“Odd name, anyway what do you want?’’ Sherlock shrugged, he wanted to get a coffee but he got an impulse to walk inside here and so he did. He wanted a lot of things but none seemed to be alcoholic drinks.

“Just a beer.’’ It was still relitavely early for the hours he stayed up so he didn’t want to overdo it, on the luck he’d remember that. The last time Sherlock drank didn’t exactly turn out well and he wasn’t too eager to try and experience that again, he really didn’t want to do that again.

  
John gave the drink fairly quickly and even winked, he seemed to want to make a conversation but was called to the other side of the bar as there were a lot of people hanging around. Sherlock decided to pay it no mind, chances he would visit this bar again were very small and because he just went on to drink his drink.

  
“You’re so lucky!’’ Sherlock turned his head to the high voice beside him, it was a girl of 28 who was still studying and seemed to be quite the alcoholic. Sherlock glanced at where she was staring and noticed a little piece of paper slipped underneath his drink.

  
_+44 83 2847 2304_   
_I’ll be waiting X_

  
Sherlock furrowed his brow and cast a glance at John who was serving a group of people in the corner of the bar. He slipped the paper into his pocket and quickly finished his drink, he left the money on the counter and he left as he was feeling rather conflicted and he didn’t want to fall into any temptation.

  
-8-

  
~~Text John~~

  
Sherlock smiled at the list he had made that day, it was simple as it was already late and he had remembered who John was luckily. He texted him and John immediately responded, it became a bit too flirtatious for Sherlock’s liking but he played along. After just a short week they were going on their first date which was now.

  
Dating people wasn’t his thing yet he had done it before, more than once. Thrice, one was a girl and the other two were boys. The first two went abysmally and it wasn’t because Sherlock didn’t care or didn’t treat them right, the memory issue was the biggest problem in both of them. People just had a very hard time learning to live with that and Sherlock understood that, he still had a hard time dealing with it. The last one ended because they just lived too far away, whilst Sherlock decided to move into London and study there his boyfriend went overseas, that didn’t work out at all as both had chosen quite the subjects to study and they were just almost always too busy with doing things.

  
Sherlock’s phone rung as a signal that John was downstairs and he left after checking he had everything he needed, John was waiting in a parking spot with his car, it was second hand and slightly beaten down but it worked which were John’s literal words. He smiled at John and said a quick hi before getting inside, he had tried his best to make sure he would remember everything he had already asked but sadly he had no guarantee if it was a good or bad day, he couldn’t control his panic attacks. He was hoping for the best.

 

**26.**

  
_John Hamish Watson_

 

Sherlock taped the sticky note on the wall. He and John had been dating for a while now and John learnt about his memory problem but was surprisingly patient with him, he didn’t mind that Sherlock had to sometimes ask his name again nor did he mind that Sherlock had asked him around ten times what he was studying and Sherlock realized how lucky he was with someone this considerate.

  
Because of this he decided to start a wall about John, the idea at first made John shy and immediately say he shouldn’t but Sherlock admitted it was more for himself, he never knew if one day he might wake up and forget who the man next to him was, he once forgot his own brother and he didn’t want to take any risks. So he decided to start the wall, he’d pin papers into it with little things written about John so if he one day would wake up without any memory of the amazing human beside him he could look at it and calm himself down.

  
Sherlock had also explained what John should do if he had a panic attack but John cut him off, telling him he was a doctor and had experience with dealing with them as his sister had them as well.

  
The two had started living together after a few months. It surprised him how easy John was, he didn’t need much or asked much, he was just happy to be with Sherlock and didn’t seem as surprised or disgusted with the fact he took interest in murders and told John’s whole life story on their first date from looking, instead john praised him for his observation skill which was especially unexpected for Sherlock but he welcomed it with open arms, John really was something different.

  
“Love, you need to eat you’ve been up for so long.’’ John said as he put a plate of sandwiches in front of Sherlock, Sherlock groaned. He still worked alongside Greg and solved quite a few cases, ever since John decided it was interesting to blog about he had gotten a lot more clients since John decided it was a really good way to pay the bill and to make him a bit more independent from Mycroft, Sherlock didn’t really care as he knew Mycroft had more than enough money. “There are probably clients coming around at four, I’ll remind you in an hour again, yeah?’’ Sherlock nodded as he started to nibble on the food.

  
“What are you even going to put on here?’’ John asked as he sipped a mug of coffee, Sherlock shrugged. He had a general idea but didn’t think too specific.

  
“Just some things about you, to remind myself. It happened before that I had a bad night and Mycroft spent it in my room yet the moment I woke up I was panicking because this stranger was in my room. If this ever happens I’ll have something to remind me.’’ Sherlock explained, it was very weird when it happened with Mycroft and Mycroft had an idea how to handle a stressing Sherlock but he didn’t know it that well.

  
“Alright, as long as it doesn’t get too embarrassing.’’ John said with a chuckle, Sherlock grinned.

  
-8-

  
Sherlock yawned as he opened his eyes. This was the second time that it happened; he woke up rather early and found someone lying beside him. The last time it was worse than now, last time his arms were wrapped around him and clutched him. He had learnt not to panic in these moments, he just reminded himself to look at the wall. The first time his eyes were already fixated onto it and it immediately all came back to him so his panic quickly stopped.

  
He slipped out of bed and took the most recent note which he recognized by the date he had written on it, it was something he started to do a few months in for sentimental reasons but for nothing but that.  
I’m afraid It’ll happen again, if it does then here’s a little thing.

  
_The man next to you is John Watson and he’s probably snoring quietly and might even have his arms or had his arms around you and I highly suggest getting back into bed and cuddling with him, he’s obsessed with that and you really enjoy it with him._

  
Sherlock smiled at John, he now did notice the silent sound coming from him, it was almost cute. At least it was definitely as cute as snoring could get. Trusting the better, Sherlock got back into bed and decided to do his best to fall asleep again.

 

**27.**

 

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

  
His heartbeat had become steady and at a normal pace is what the Doctors told him, he had a high chance of recovering so he should not worry too much yet everyday he found himself only being able to recognize the way to the hospital and walking the same route over and over again and sitting there the whole day. He knew there were a few people in the hospital getting worried, they even considered calling it an obsession.

  
What they didn’t know though is that they would’ve been engaged if it wasn’t for this. Sherlock knew it for a few weeks, John was planning on proposing yesterday if he wasn’t stuck in the hospital because it was the day they met and John decided that was the best time to do it.

  
Sherlock couldn’t believe that this happened to him, it partially did. He knew John wouldn’t blame him and no one else would either but he couldn’t help but to blame himself, if he just told John he could’ve done it alone this one time and maybe even forced him to stay home they’d be engaged by now. John followed him and during a certain intense fight with the person Sherlock was chasing John got shot. It wasn’t a fatal wound, that was obvious as it was in his shoulder but it took the ambulance a bloody long time to arrive and by then he had lost quite a bit of blood even though Sherlock was able to do anything to lessen it.

  
He knew he wasn’t being rational, the chances of John not surviving were almost in the negative yet he still worried every single second. He had never met anyone who had been so patient with him, who cared so much beside his family. He never expected to be with someone like John, someone who was a bit cynical but not too much, kind, a bit sarcastic and he could be a bit of an asshole to people he didn’t like but Sherlock never really saw that side of him, John was the best he could ask for, even better than he hoped for.

  
“Sir, you need to leave.’’ He ignored the nurse, she had told him that exactly an hour ago as well yet no one had come yet to physically remove him.

  
“He doesn’t need to, I spoke to your boss. It’s fine.’’ Sherlock hadn’t spoken to Mycroft since it happened which was around a week ago now, he had been somewhat angry at him, Mycroft would’ve called it outraged, that he wasn’t allowed to stay and basically walked away and didn’t pay attention to any of his calls or texts.

  
“He’s going to wake up in a day or two, the doctors told me. Everything is steady, the blood loss wasn’t too fatal, the wound has been healing well and his heartbeat has been steady since the third day. There’s nothing to worry about.’’ Mycroft said to Sherlock as he sat down as well, Sherlock was suddenly curious and decided to just ask, he had been wondering for quite a few years.

  
“Was this how you felt when the car crash happened? There was an endless numbness at first which changes into an endless anxiety which I’m guessing only stoops when he wakes up.’’ Sherlock said, he didn’t look at Mycroft but he imagined the expression that came onto his face.

  
“I couldn’t have said it better.’’

  
“Yes you could, you could’ve used your more extensive vocabulary to brag.’’ Mycroft chuckled.

  
“I wasn’t there when you woke up, I couldn’t be there. I remember hearing my little brother, that boy who used to be annoying me every second in a good way got into a car crash. It felt like the world had stopped completely, like there was nothing else in the world going on, as though time had frozen. Then came then news you didn’t even remember your own name, I was certainly afraid.’’ Mycroft admitted and Sherlock realized how hard that must’ve been on him.

  
“But you don’t need to be, John won’t change. They said the damage on his shoulder wouldn’t be too harsh, he needs to see someone but it won’t change him or make a big difference.’’ Sherlock could only hope for that.

 

**33**  
Sherlock snuck out of bed, he had to admit it was hard to escape John’s grasp but he got better at it everyday and stared at his wall. It had grown a lot over the past years, from a wall it almost turned into their complete upper floor but he eventually put a few old ones in a notebook to still preserve them and have them somewhere nearbye.

  
Ever a few years ago the notes didn’t become things to remember John by, it became notes he wrote to himself as snarky comments for when he woke up as he always did before John and liked to look over his wall. His memory had gotten slightly worse, it took him a bit more attention to remember details and it was becoming close to impossible to remember them whenever he was experiencing a lot of negative emotions but it rarely happened and he imagined it was slightly inevitable that his memory wouldn’t get worse with age. That’s what age does to you.

  
_Still can’t believe I’ve been married for five years so show a little gratitude for you in the past and get back into that damned bed._

  
Sherlock chuckled lightly, he and John had gotten married around a year after the accident happened. John’s shoulder was fine, it was worse than before but seeing a physical therapist everything had slowly become better up to the point where the different wasn’t really noticeable anymore, John just sometimes winced when he leant on his right shoulder too much but that was all. It didn’t hit any core bones so none of his bones got fractured, nothing changed.

  
They decided to have a simple wedding with just a few of their friends, it wasn’t too long or grand but it was enough for the two of them and all they both wanted. Two years after they moved out of the apartment and into a proper house which took them forever to fill, neither had a lot of stuff and now Sherlock even had a room for his experiments the kitchen was surprisingly empty. A few months after the two decided to get a dog, John had brought up kids once but both were honest and admitted that felt too soon but maybe in a year or so just when they were more comfortable in their house and so now they were in a program for adoption.

 

The two had their arguments, one even became so bad Sherlock left their house for a whole week but it also reminded them that you shouldn’t always agree on everything and that it was healthy to have arguments about something in a relationship, it happened to every relationship once in a while no matter how perfect the people felt for each other, difference occurred.

  
Sherlock was anxious as to how his memory would get worse but he always knew he had John. That was the one thing that did improve when it came to his memory.

  
He never forgot John after the hospital.  
Never.


End file.
